The hostess wasn't particularly welcoming, but why judge a restaurant by its hospitality representative? Um, right?"Hi," I said and smiled. "We'd like a table for three."
"We're closed. For dinner. And the terrace is also not open. Unless everyone is doing a full dinner."
"What about the bar?"
"Oh. Yeah, you can go there."
And she looked back into her podium.
We ordered drinks and a pesto chicken pizza, but with nowhere to sit and almost nowhere to stand, Mr. A's uncle sat a table on the empty terrace. There, we toasted Mr. A, who arrived in San Diego exactly a year ago today.
With the sun setting over the pacific, a stealthily snagged table with a clear view of the water, a cool drink in hand after a long beach walk, and great company, the moment was, perhaps, too good to be true. Just when we started thinking we were blessed, a waiter politely asked us to move.
I got up and talked to the bartender. Told her there was no place to eat our pizza. And we weren't going to stay into their dinner hour. Did she mind?
"You know what? Go ahead. We're not that busy tonight."
Thank you, Jake's of Del Mar!
Gained: A table for three.
